Page 35 of Uncontrolled

“Shit,” Talia whispers.

“Got it.” My movements are quick and self-assured. “Hi!” I say as I slide between CJ and the dead girl’s father. The man stares at me, flummoxed to find a five-foot four girl in front of him in place of the pimpled subject of his wrath.

“You people are sick!” the old man yells before he switches gears. CJ steps around me, eager to retake control of the situation. Instead, the kid stumbles, tripping over that untied shoelace. He grabs for the man’s arm to catch himself.

“Get your damn hands off me!” The man yanks free. The motion drives his elbow into my stomach.

I double over in shock and pain. My brain spasms, the room goes black and I’m back in the cellar. This time, I won’t escape and Jamison will gut me. The dusty scent of dirt and abandoned spaces tickles my nose. I’m going to die. My body clenches. Shackles on my wrists, the bite of the metal, the chill of the damp floor. The first of Jamison’s ruthless kicks is coming.

Except it’s not.

That’s over. The thought breaks the spell. I’m sitting uselessly on the floor near the doorway, watching Talia secure the man while CJ tilts the resurrected girl to a sitting position.

For a fraction of a second, I wonder if the scene covered my reaction until I hear Talia. “Allie?” she asks. “All green?”

I’m too shaken to do anything but nod.

Twenty minutes later, we’re back in Talia’s SUV, on the road headed toward Fissure’s Whipp. We make the entire drive home before CJ breaks the deafening silence. “I messed up so bad,” the kid whispers.

At least the attention’s not on me. I’m eager to keep it that way. “Tell us how.”

Talia shoots me a reproachful look before she pins him in the rearview. “CJ,” she says. “You did great for your first job. Learning the subtle cues of an escalating situation takes years.”

“Or,” I add. “You could prevent it from happening at all. What should you have done differently?” I press, ignoring Talia’s mumbled warning.

In the back seat, the kid lists on his fingers. “I didn’t check for a trap. I don’t think I hit her heart with the needle so the resurrection took longer. I didn’t keep her dad informed which made him freak out. I…” He seems to have run out of steam.

“What single action could have prevented that entire scene?”

Beside me, Talia shakes her head, though she keeps driving without comment.

“Um,” he starts before he winces, unsure. “I don’t know.”

“Tie your damn shoes.” My face is a perfect mask of seriousness.

I fight to keep from laughing as he nods and then a slow smile creeps across his mouth as he realizes he’s not in trouble. “Shoes, got it.”

“You did fine,” I tell him as Talia stops in front of the path to the stairs that lead to my apartment. “Work on evasive techniques and balance.”

I go for the door.

“Speaking of,” Talia says. “You and I are on for sparring tomorrow, yes? Noon work for you?”

It’s not a question and I’m not stupid enough to think there’s a way out of it. It’s one thing for me to be having nightmares or losing out on a couple hours of sleep. She might have forgiven the tiny panic attack in the car, but Talia knows a simple elbow to the stomach shouldn’t drop me like it did.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say.

With that, I hop out, waiting until they’re gone before I start up the stairs and down the hallway to my apartment. Inside is a whole other mess of misery, this one of my own making.

Or, I think. He won’t be there at all.

Ploy

Last night, when I heard Allie’s keys rattle in the door after midnight, I faked sleep. After whispering my name, she retreated to bed without us hashing out what happened before Talia whisked her off on their secret mission.

Stretching now, I shake off my fatigue and blink against the harsh light of morning. In a few hours, last night will be a moot point. I’ll prove I’m worth keeping around.

My phone vibrates where it’s cradled in my palm. “Here” the text reads.

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